#to my polish followers who asked about prints:

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Girls’ Night

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Y/N wants to try out some girly hobbies with the boys

A/N: this one turned out so short 😅. But I still think it’s pretty cute.

“I want some nail polish.”

Dean put down the pie he was holding and turned to look at the ten year old leaning on the cart.

“Nail polish? What for, baby?”

“To paint nails,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone.

“Ok…” Dean was surprised by the sudden request, but still. wandered over to the beauty section. “Pick a color.”

“What color do you want?”

Dean scoffed, “Who cares? It’s not for me?”

The silence that followed was awkward, to say the least. “Honey? That’s not for me, is it?”

You huffed, “I wanna practice on someone else!”

“No no no, you’re not gonna-“ Dean stopped. “Alright, when did Sam teach you the puppy dog eyes?” He groaned. “Ok, but you’re using this.” Dean held up a bottle of clear nail polish.

“I gotta do some in color, Dean!” You protested.

“Ok, one can be black, but that’s it, ok? I’m not walking around like some emo goth Ken doll.”

You grinned, “Deal.”

…

“Hey, not bad,” Dean held up his hand for you to see his nails, and you grinned.

“Sammy, come see!”

“No no, wait-“ Dean tried to stop you, but it was too late.

“Ok, ok, it’s not that funny,” Dean groaned as Sam doubled over laughing.

“Oh yes it is. Smile!”

Dean was too late to hide his painted nails from the camera.

…

“What are you doing?” Sam tried to turn his head when he felt you tugging at his hair, but your cry of protest made him freeze.

“I’m trying to learn how to braid, now stay still,” you instructed.

“You’re…braiding my hair?” Sam wriggled in his seat, but ultimately decided to leave you alone. “Hey kiddo, can I ask you something?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled, your eyebrows drawn together in concentration as you worked on Sam’s hair.

“What’s with the sudden interest in this stuff?”

You were silent for several long moments.

“The girls talk about it.”

“What?” Sam asked, confused.

“At lunch, at school,” you explained. “Katie talks about getting her nails done with her mom, and Priscilla always has some kind of new braid that her mom did up for her. Sometimes the girls braid each other’s hair before going out, but I…” you sighed, sounding frustrated. “But I don’t know how to do that.”

“Oh,” Sam wasn’t quite sure what to say. He hadn’t grown up with a mom either, but it was different for him. He didn’t miss out in the same way you did.

Dean, who’d been standing in the doorway listening, made a mental note to learn how to braid hair so that you could go to school with your hair up like you wanted it. He remained silent though, wanting to let you and Sam have your moment.

“Done!” You announced, grinning as you put your hands down.

“What? No way,” Sam was incredulous. “You couldn’t have gotten a braid in it, It’s not long enough for that!”

Dean finally decided to make his presence known, pulling out his phone as he stepped into the room.

“Oh yes it is. Smile!”

Dean printed the image out and hung it up right next to the image of him with his painted nails, and the brothers never let each other forget those moments.

#winchester x reader #dean winchester #spn sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #the winchesters #winchester #sam winchester x reader #the winchester brothers #sam winchester #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #dean x sister #dean x you #supernatural dean #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #dean #dean x reader #sam and dean #supernatural sam #sam x sister!reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x y/n

[luveline]

if you’re up to it!! maybe a single dad!steve w twins? i cant stop thinkin about one of your posts saying he’d have a really rambunctious lil girl and a sweet shy lil boy 🥺 maybe a meet cute with r? or the lil boy warming up to r and letting her hold him for the first time? idk!! also no worries at all if you’re not feeling this! just thought i’d throw it out there okay ilysm mwah

thank you for your request, this was so fun, and I'd been thinking about the twins for a little while now so it was fun to actually write them!! ♥︎ single dad!steve x fem!reader 2.2k

"Sarah," Steve says loudly, "you gotta hold my hand, or we'll have to go home." 

Sarah's eyes widen and she grabs for Steve's bigger fingers. Her palm is sticky with ice cream. No part of her remains unscathed from the disastrous dairy — her blue dress is now purple in splotches, bubblegum ice cream stains like fingerprints, and her blonde hair is darker towards the tips where she'd accidentally leaned into her sundae. Steve doesn't mind, she looks like she enjoyed herself, and her little sighs of joy had proven it, but he worries other people will look at her and think he isn't looking after her properly. 

He's lucky in some ways to be a single dad instead of a single mom. Most people commend him for doing the bare minimum. He's a saint for 'giving mommy a break'. Oh, please, he thinks, rolling his eyes internally each time. 

"But, how come Charlie doesn't have to hold your hand?" she asks, pouting at the injustice of it all. 

"Your brother does need to hold my hand," Steve says. 

"He's holding onto your pants, dad," she grumbles. 

It would be more accurate to say Charlie is hiding behind Steve's pants, rather than holding them. 

He frowns. "Come on, buddy," he says softly, stroking the downy hair from Charlie's face. "It's alright. We're gonna go on the swings." 

His mentioning of the playground has Sarah's hand straining in his. She tugs her small family with huge willpower down the path until the top of the swingset and jungle gym are in sight, and she lets go of Steve's hand. Steve grabs her as kindly as he can. 

"Hey," he says, leaning down. His backpack shifts against his back, their water bottles no doubt crushed under the weight of their coats and lunchboxes. "What's the rules, Sar-bear?" 

She fizzes up like a can of soda as he brushes sticky strands of hair behind her ears. "Um, to be nice. And to not go where you can't see us, and," —she pauses as Steve wipes her mouth, the old spirit and polish marring his shirt sleeve— "to, uh…" 

"To be careful," he finishes for her pointedly. 

"Yes!" she agrees. 

Steve would ask for a kiss here but Sarah's already jumping on tip toes to give him one, her little kiss print more spit than anything else against his bottom lip. He snorts.

Sarah rushes through the gates and Steve and Charlie follow. There's only one other parent at the playground, a mom with a book in her hands and a stroller by her knees, a child Steve assumes to be hers swinging on the swingset. It's too many people for Charlie regardless, not half as eager as his sister.

Steve sits on the bench opposite the jungle gym where Sarah's already climbing, and Charlie holds his arms up to be lifted into his lap. He does so obligingly.

"You don't wanna play?" Steve murmurs warmly in his ear. 

"No," Charlie says succinctly. He's adorable. 

"I can push you on the swings?" 

"Not for now," he says. 

The twins are at mostly all the same developmental milestones. They sound clumsy when they talk, but they talk, big vocabularies and sentences that make Steve well up because they're getting older so quickly. Sarah tells stories like nobody's business. They're good enough to capture even her brother's attention, full of animals and magic and people. Charlie likes listening, will sit enthralled at her feet, and most people who meet him think he's quiet because his sister is so loud, but it's not true. Charlie likes to talk too, he's just timid. Only at home does he come out of his shell, playing out scenes with imaginary characters, singing gibberish karaoke at the top of his little lungs. 

Steve doesn't mind that Charlie's shy around others. He's grateful to see his baby boy's loud side at home. He wishes Charlie would put himself out there, though, for his own sake. 

"The little boy won't mind," Steve insists. "Come on, baby, it'll be fun. We don't wanna sit here watching Sarah all day, do we?" 

Charlie tips his head back against Steve's chest. "I like Sarah." 

Steve laughs, an extreme affection warming his heart. He wraps his arms around Charlie's front and rubs his baby's head with the tip of his nose. 

"I like Sarah, too," he says. His smile is audible and catching. 

They sit there for a while. The sun shines down, the sky a bright blue and dotted with eggshell clouds. Sarah races over rope fixtures and spring boards until she finally reaches the monkey bars. Steve regrets letting her up there when he realises how tall it is and how small she is, shepherding Charlie with him to stand at the side. 

"Daddy," she says, clearly pleased at his arrival and talking with near factual efficiency, "I need your help." 

"Yes you do, honey." 

He puts his arms out. She grabs one bar and tests it to see how her weight will feel, her bottom lip disappearing between white shiny baby teeth. 

"You want me to hold your waist?" he asks knowingly. 

"I think so." 

"I think so too." He holds her waist, her legs against his chest, and tries not to make it too obvious that he's holding the majority of her weight. "Have a go, honey. One hand at a time." 

Sarah 'swings' from handhold to handhold until she gets to the other end of the bars, where she uses his chest to push herself up onto the metal floor. She cheers and rushes to sit down at the top of the slide. 

Charlie stands at the bottom. Steve has to pluck him from in front of it before Sarah rockets her Mary Jane's into his chest, which makes Sarah laugh and cheer even more. 

"Woah, Charlie! I almos'd kicked your face!" 

"You want a turn?" Steve asks him. "We'll use the other side to go on the slide, should we?" 

Sarah had chosen the hard way up to the slide via monkey bars. Charlie takes the easier side, a gentle wooden ramp with a rope for him to hold onto. He climbs to the top of the slide, sits happily at the precipice, wind ruffling the hair out of his bright eyes, and Steve thinks he's going to be brave for a moment. 

Charlie looks at Steve worriedly. "You'll catch me at the end?" 

"Yeah, I'll catch you." 

Charlie slides down to the end, the metal squeaking under his pants, and Steve catches him before his feet can hit the floor as promised. 

Sarah is ecstatic, already at the top waiting for another turn. "Go Charlie!" she shouts, pushing down and slamming into Steve's knees at the end. 

"Excuse me?" 

Steve turns, one kid clinging to his chest, the other his legs. 

You're standing at the gate with a stack of fliers in your arms. Steve's worried he's about to get cold called, thinks, wow, she's a little too pretty to be selling vacuum cleaners curbside, as you hold out a flyer. 

"I'm looking for my friend's cat," you say. "I'm really sorry to interrupt you. Her name's Evangeline and she's orange. She's kinda chubby. Have you seen her?" 

Charlie's pressing his face as far into Steve's neck as physics will allow him to while Steve draws closer to you. His breath warms Steve's skin in hot puffs. 

"I don't think we have. Did you see a cat today, Sar-bear?"

Sarah holds her arms up for a flyer. A smile flickers across your face, and Steve can tell you're immediately indoctrinated into the Sarah fan club. She has this charm about her that can get just about anyone on her side, even Hopper. 

It helps that she's beautiful. Steve will admit to parental bias, sure, but Sarah is gorgeous. 

"Thank you," she says, mumbling but not shy as you give her a flyer of her own. 

LOST CAT, the poster says. PLEASE CALL THIS NUMBER IF YOU SEE ME. I AM VERY FRIENDLY. EVANGELINE, SEVEN YEARS OLD, GINGER. I DONT BITE BUT PLEASE DONT PET MY TUMMY, IM PREGNANT.

"Oh no," Steve says.

"Daddy, what does it say?" Sarah asks, pert nose wrinkling in confusion. 

"It says," he begins, "that she's a really nice cat, and she's about to be a mommy." 

"Ohh… I didn't see'd her today." 

"No, I didn't think so." Steve's arms are aching from holding Charlie for so long, but knows from experience he won't be put down. Steve doesn't bother trying it, just shifts Charlie on his hip to encourage his gaze to you where you're standing, patient and a smidge awkward. 

"How about you? Have you seen any cats today?" he asks Charlie. 

Charlie peeks up from Steve to assess you. You're wearing jeans and a dark green jacket, unzipped. There's a smiley face on your t-shirt, black against grey-white. Charlie sees this, sees the very real, very gentle smile you wear on your lips, and relaxes just a touch.

"I don't remember, sorry," he says quietly.

You visibly weaken. Steve gets it. His kids are ridiculously lovely. 

"Don't be sorry, babe," you say sweetly, leaning down to meet his eyes. "Can I ask you for a favour?"

Steve rubs his back. Charlie nods. 

"Could you keep an eye out for me, would that be okay? We don't want Eva to have her kittens by herself. Maybe if you see her daddy can call the number on the poster?" 

You look to him with a different kind of smile. 

"Sure we will!" Sarah says, eyes fixed on the black and white photo of Evangeline.

You fish a pen out of your pocket. "Maybe you could call me." You smile. "You know, if you find her." 

Steve blinks. It takes a second for his body to remember how to talk to girls, pretty girls who want to talk to him. It's been a while. 

"Uh, sure." He hates himself. He can still save it. "What's the reward?" 

He can't save it. 

"If you find Evangeline? We were hoping whoever helped get her home would do it from the goodness of their heart, but I think I could make an exception." Your eyes flit between the twins. You scribble down something Steve can't see on a new poster and offer it to Charlie with an encouraging nod. "Hey, thank you. Any help at all means the world. You guys go on and have a good day, alright? Thanks, handsome." 

"You're welcome," Steve says, a millisecond after he realises you'd been talking to Charlie. 

You laugh and wiggle your fingers at his kids. You're gone as quick as you came down the stone path to the ice cream parlour. 

Steve's boiling. It isn't from the sun. 

"What'd she write, daddy?" Sarah asks. 

He tears his eyes from your retreating figure and lowers Charlie to the ground with a tired groan. He sits on the end of the slide and the twins follow him as they always do, like magnets since the days they learned to crawl. They all squeeze on the end of the slide together. 

"Can I see yours, bud?" he asks.

Steve puts Charlie's flyer on top of his own. Next to Evangeline's chunky body, you've written a tightly packed message. Your handwriting looks like your voice sounds. Steve doesn't know how to explain it. 

You've put down your phone number. Under it, you've written a sloping message: 

find her and maybe we can celebrate! ♥︎ 

"Dad?" Sarah prompts. 

"Oh, right. It says if we find the cat we can celebrate."

"What's 'celebrate'?" 

"Uh, we can celebrate, we can have a reward and a little party."

"A party?" Sarah asks with a gasp. 

"Well, not always?" he says, his heart still pattering from the sight of your number. 

It's too late to amend what he's said. Sarah's heard party, and she wants a party, though her definition of what a party is inaccurate. She thinks parties with Aunt Robin are better than Christmas, movies and popcorn and jiffy pop and Depeche Mode singalong. 

"Dad, we have to find that cat!" 

Steve's thinking the same thing. Any excuse to call you is one he wants to take, not just because you'd been pretty, but because you'd seen him and the kids at the same time. He doesn't wanna be presumptuous, maybe you write your number on all the posters, but even as he thinks it he doubts it. 

Your biro heart feels like a beckoning. 

Or Steve's an idiot. It wouldn't be the first time he was.

"Can we go look, dad?" Charlie asks. 

Steve has a lot of chores waiting for him at home, laundry and dishes and bills he has to do over the phone. He doesn't have time to look for a wandering cat, even if you were super pretty, and you'd talked to the kids like they were golden, and the smile you'd given him at one point felt heavy with something unspoken… 

"Let me get my bag," he says, standing up. "You guys are gonna need your jackets if we're staying out. It's getting cold." 

The twins rush to join him. 

—

my requests are open so if you'd like to see more of steve and the twins let me know, hopefully they can find poor evangeline! and if you enjoyed please consider reblogging, it means the world <3<3<3<3

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington #dad steve harrington #dad steve harrington x reader #single dad steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve and the twins

[aaaaafro]

Princess. Must Handle With Care! - IVE - Wonyoung x M! Reader (+18)

tw: idk lol just seggs, I've gotten too lazy to proofread.

Have you ever held something so precious that it might just break at the lift of a finger?

It's like getting handed a precious diamond, polished to its perfection, that even leaving a print of your finger on it would be detrimental to its value.

That's the feeling of having Wonyoung's skin against your touch. A diamond in its perfection, it feels illegal just grazing a part of her skin, but yet you're...

"AHHH! Fuck!" The girl hiss as you threw her almost inhumanly easy, on the thankfully soft bed.

"A-are you mad?" Her soft innocent tone paired with her glassy eyes on the verge of tears was such an irony from her earlier state.

"No..." Your answer helps slightly ease up the lady.

"I'm fucking fuming." Each syllables etching fear and excitement in Wonyoung as she struggles to keep her composure.

Your reasoning is coming back slowly seeing Wony squirming, as tears start to fall down her pearl like face. Just as then you're able to keep your sanity, before you questioned yourself, if its even worth it to continue your fit.

"W-why d-daddy?" And there goes the remaining guilt in yourself.

"Holy fuck, you really can't fucking control yourself?"

"N-no daddy~" Her voice trailing off almost as if she's teasing more rather than pleading for her well being.

"Couldn't you just fucking contain yourself until we're home?"

"B-but!" Wony tries to answer.

"But?! But what?! Nothing! You really should realize what you've just done!"

Wonyoung stayed silent as she tucks herself on her knees sulking as she reminisces about the moments leading to where you two are.

- - - - - flashback - - - - -

"AHHH! Fuck!" You sigh as you approach the fancy diner.

"What's wrong babe?" Your girlfriend asks.

"Nothing, It's just... my nerves are getting to me."

"Oh come on babe. It's just my friends! Plus, I've already told them how great of a guy you are." She tries to encourage you.

"I know that, but still, what if they don't like me?"

"Oh baby!" She grabs you by the cheek before boping her nose on yours.

"They'll like you, but just 'like'... Since, I'm the only one who'll love you." She smiled before pulling away with a proud look as she entered the diner and you quickly followed along.

"Omg! There they are!" You can hear the high pitched voices as Wonyoung and her friends finally meet.

"And you must be the lucky one!" One of her friends says as she gives you a good scan from head to toe as the others follow along with the teasing, and you just gave them a hesitant smile.

"No, I am. I'm the lucky one." Wony replies helping ease up the tension.

All of you sat around the table and you've finally introduced yourself, going around one by one the girls start introducing themselves as well, starting from the one on the other end of the table .

"I'm Liz, it's nice to finally meet you." The girl says with her smile forming the cutest ball of sunshine you've ever seen.

"Hi, I'm Gaeul, finally Wonyoung can stop describing you whenever we're hanging out." The girl with the short hair smiles as the others immediately laugh while your girlfriend just hides her blush.

"Hello! I'm Leeseo, I'm the youngest." Another girl greets and she certainly looks the youngest.

"I'm Rei, it's nice to finally see the guy Wonyoung is getting crazy about." Another girl greets you as she gives you another infectious smile.

"Finally!" The girl right next to you  and the one who gave you a scan earlier sighs in relief as her turn comes.

She prompts herself up with a hand on your shoulder and the table, the girls laugh seeing this sight but Wonyoung looks like she's not enjoying it.

"Well! My name's Yujin." She smiled as she gave your shoulder a light squeeze.

"Oohh!" She mouthed, feeling the muscles behind your suit.

"Ehem?!" Wonyoung fakes a cough as Yujin finally lets her hand off of you.

"Right, so, I'm Wony's fave friend." She confidently states as they all look at the two just giving each other a stink eye.

"I can clearly see why Wonyoung has been, too out of it lately." Yujin adds before placing her hand on your shoulder once more.

"Ya!" Wonyoung reacts as she pulls you away violently from her friend.

"Woah! Babe!" You panic seeing the girls surprised faces.

"Jeez! So possessive! I was just kidding." Yujin eases up the crowd but makes sure you to give you a subtle wink and a smile that makes your throat dry as you try and calm your girlfriend down.

The rest of the dinner was normal, or you thought so, as the wines get involved you see the sudden shift of their attitudes. Except for Leeseo who needed to head out first as she still has something to do. For the rest... well... "I still can't believe you're Wony's boyfriend."

Yunjin's comments earn her a couple of awkward chuckles as the other girls are nowhere near as sober as you are. You sat there silently, as they all told a bunch of cute but slightly embarrassing stories of each other, one trying to one up the other.

It was all fun and games but then something else happened. During one of the playful arguments that the girls are having Wonyoung was going up against Yujin on who's the better girlfriend material.

Obviously as they're going along, you're bound to get involved.

"First of all, I'm better at taking care of people!" Yujin says as the other girls are now a laughing mess at the side.

"Well, if you are, then how come you haven't introduced anyone to us?" Wonyoung rebuts before she quickly clings onto you, as they all shoot a look at you.

"Isn't that right, baby?" Wonyoung looks at you with a great longing for an answer. Quickly scanning the rest of the girls as you realized that they're anticipating a response.

"Hehe." You could only chuckle awkwardly as your girlfriend presses herself against you even harder.

"A-are you g-girls always like this?" You asked and they quickly nodded.

"Pft! Just because you bought your boyfriend doesn't mean that you're a better girlfriend material than me!" Yujin suddenly retorts.

"Oh really?"

You just sat there thinking that this cute argument is normal with them. Taking a sip of water, as your throat was drying up. When all of a sudden.

"Yeah! I bet you can't even please him as much as I probably can."

You almost spew the water across the table after hearing Yujin's claims. You look over Wonyoung who's currently awestruck at what her friend just said.

"E-excuse me?!" Wonyoung questioned and Yujin just gave her a scoff.

"Am I wrong?!" Yujin suddenly aims her sight on you.

Beads of sweat forms on your forehead, as the girls shoots a look at you with a visible anticipation of your answer. With your throat drying up. You gave Wonyoung a small tap under the table but that wasn't even necessary as Wony suddenly got up from her seat diverting everyone's attention towards her.

"I please him very well myself..." Wonyoung says in such a stern way that everyone's jaw just dropped.

"H-Hold on-." You try to interrupt and switch the subject but Yujin suddenly silenced you with a finger.

"Really?" Yujin mocks as she gave Wonyoung an unimpressed look.

"Yeah, that's right. Isn't it daddy?" Your heart drops when Wonyoung suddenly uses your bed name even placing her hand over your arm and brushing it up and down and giving a good squeeze in before continuing the motion..

"W-wait-..." You tried calming down the situation but your girlfriend isn't backing down and so does her friend.

"Why? Am I wrong? Don't I pleasure you well daddy?"

"W-wony." You start to panic as the girls starts to look at you suspiciously.

"Yes daddy? The way you rail me the other night. How hard you're penetrating your length in me–."

You've never even wished to be swallowed by the earth as much as you have currently, as you sat there while your girlfriend does her best to tell her friends how hard you're fucking her. As her hands travels down your chest towards your thigh.

"Oh you've gone silent?" Wonyoung's proud voice directed towards Yujjn whos sat there speechless after hearing her friend's proud sex story.

"Still think I can't pleasure him? Why'd you think he's here with me right now? That's right! Because I'm the perfect girl for her! He just can't get enough of me and we'll probably do it again later tonight."

"W-wony." You whispered but she's in too deep on her fit.

"He's gonna be fucking me all night. Pounding away at my tight–."

"Wonyoung!" You had enough as you've realized how ridiculously awkward the situation is as the other girls sat in silence.

"Oh..." Her confidence fades in an instant hearing your hardened voice and she sees everyone awkwardly silent.

"S-sorry." Wonyoung's voice is almost nonexistent as she takes a seat.

The rest of the dinner was definitely the most awkward dinner you've had. All of you stayed silent and no one even dared to speak up even afterwards. The only time someone spoke was when you're about to part ways.

"W-wonyoungie... I'm sorry." Yujin says softly as they both hug each other.

"I'm sorry as well for making it awkward."

"It's fine, really... but you do have a lot of things to work out with your boyfriend." Yujin jokes as you sit there trying your best to calm yourself as they all laughed at Wonyoung's blush.

With all of you finally saying your goodbyes to each other and taking separate ways to your respected rest of the night. You're now left with Wonyoung in your passenger seat as she fidgets with her phone trying her best to not acknowledge the fact that she made one hell of an introduction of you to her friends.

- - - - - flashback end - - - - -

"Now talk."

"B-but isn't it true?!" She counters with a weirdly proud tone as if what she did wasn't wrong.

"Don't I pleasure you well?"

"Don't you just love it when you're balls deep inside of me daddy?"

"Wony-..."

"Am I not your slut princess?!"

"Or is it because you'd want to fuck Yujin instead of me?!"

That last question took you out of your head. Seeing Wonyoung's emotions pouring out as she looks at you with such need of validation. Wonyoung is... Jealous?

"Wony." You softly called as her tears start to fall down.

"No! It's because you've seen Yujin and now you don't want me anymore!"

You stood there looking stupid and fucked by seeing your girlfriend crying out loud as she starts lashing out how Yujin's hand didn't even wait a second to touch you and how you didn't even dare to resist it.

"Babe." You called, as Wony just balled up and hid herself under the covers.

With nothing else but guilt, you quickly joined Wonyoung under the covers. You leveled your face with hers as she just hides her face on her hands, your hand captures her hip pulling her towards you.

"Wony."

"You know none of that is true, right?"

"You're my one and only." You can see her eyes peeking through her fingers as your words didn't fail to reach your sulking girlfriend.

"R-really?" She whispered as you gave her a reassuring smile and nod.

Quickly removing her hand off of her face she captures your lips with hers engaging in a much needed dessert as the meal earlier clearly didn't hit the right spot.

"Mhmm..."

"Ngnhnnnngg." Wonyoung moans as she presses herself against you even more trying to feel as much of you as possible.

Finally detaching away from each other a trail of spit hangs on the edge of her lips and Wonyoung is quick to catch it before leading it into her mouth with a finger.

"Am I really your one and only?" She asks with such curiosity that it's almost insulting the integrity of your words

"Of course baby." You assured.

"Mhmm." Her hum sounded a bit suspicious as she suddenly slides her hand down your chest to your abdomen.

"So, I'm the only one you love?" She asks

You just nodded and her finger took its time fiddling with your belt though you know where all of this is going. You just knew that words are never enough for her to begin with.

"And that also means that I'm the only one who can pleasure you, right daddy?"

"W-wony."

"No! I don't want that name."

Of course. She's not a big fan of any sweet names you've given her in this particular type of situation... Only one name can satisfy Wonyoung's neediness.

"My slut princess."

"Mhmmm... Yes daddy." As her temperature reaches an all time high, she quickly connected her lips with yours before following up with a tongue.

"Nnnhhnhnnggg!" Wonyoung squirm under your touch as you've switched your position. With you now topping over her, as you then press your girlfriend down the bed.

"Are you gonna f-fuck me now, d-daddy?" She asks after you've pulled away from each other.

"No."

"WHAT?!" Taken aback by your answer she accidentally raised her voice and looks at you in disbelief before realizing what she has done.

"W-wha... Daddy." Her tone switching back to being needy voice was such a music to your ears.

"You need to learn your lesson. No fucks for you today." You tried getting off of Wonyoung but her long legs caught you immediately locking you in place.

"Look at you." You said with such disdain seeing the desperation from your slut princess under you.

"P-please daddy?" She pleads pulling you towards her.

As your lower halves touched, you can't help but notice that the woman under you is already soaking wet that her juices are seeping through her underwear that you've failed to realize when she discarded her pants.

"Oh... Look at the little slut princess." You mocked as she squirms even more.

Pressing you on her harder as your member twitches under your pants. Wonyoung felt this and had given her a glimmer of hope.

"See?" She smiled. "Daddy's body can't resist his slut princess." With a proud tone, Wony pulls you in for another kiss but you resist as she adds another arm on your nape to try and pull you down.

"Daddy!" She cries as you just smiled at her proud of the damage you're causing though it might be a bit too much.

But you know Wonyoung too much even just after being with her for only a few months. You smiled as she started grinding her lower half on you and you did your best to press yourself against her that made her enthusiastic.

"Mhmmm daddy!" She happily continues to grind as you relish the feeling of her moist clothed core.

Getting caught in the feeling she lets her guard down that allows you to escape her legs. Wonyoung gasps as you leave the bed.

"Daddy!" She begged.

"Please..."

"Give me one good reason on why I should be balls deep inside you right now."

Your proposal didn't even give Wonyoung a doubt as she suddenly starts removing the rest of her clothing.

"You want a reason?" She asks before slowly spreading her legs apart giving you a good view of her glistening entrance.

You must've swallowed a gallon of spit seeing the sight of your girlfriend in front of you. A smirk forms on her lips seeing how awestruck you are.

"Didn't you say it yourself daddy?" Her words cutting through your defenses like a hot knife on butter.

"I'm your only one."

"Which means only I can pleasure daddy." She smirked as you started to make your way back towards the bed.

"Now daddy..."

"I'm your slut..." She awaits your response as you've finally stood on the edge of the bed in front of her.

"Princess." You answered before diving face first onto her core.

"Mhmmm! Yes! Get in there daddy..." Wony moans as she tussles with your hair trying to pull you in deeper.

You did your best to taste as much as you could before you then started to work on removing your pants without letting off on eating your girlfriend out.

"Look at how hard you are daddy!" Wonyoung states after catching a glimpse of your engorged rod.

"Did your slut princess turn you on that much?"

You gave her a glance as you regretfully detached yourself from her heavenly feast. Wonyoung eyes lights up as you go ahead and line yourself in front of her entrance.

As you're about to indulge in the feel of her walls clenching you, you paused for a moment and gave Wonyoung a look of admiration, you can see the glimmer in her eyes as she slowly anticipates your entry.

A slight nod from her signals you to go in... And go in you did, feeling her walls clasping your member and despite her tight walls your entry was all smooth thanks to her juices mixed with your spit dripping from her core.

"Y-yes! You're so big daddy~!"

"You're fucking tight princess."

The two of you keep a steady pace of hissing and moans as you feel each other's love pouring with every motion. You threw your head back trying to alleviate some of the pleasure from the intercourse but Wonyoung wasn't having any of it, as she pulls your face back down and quickly feasting on your lips.

With her tongue dancing inside your mouth, your member twitches inside of her, your heat spikes as Wonyoung pushes you inside of her even more using her long legs.

"Ngnhnnnngg! Fuc–... I... L-love it daddy—.” She mumbled into the kiss as you doubled the efforts and intensity of your thrusts making your girlfriend a moaning mess when she detached her mouth with yours.

Seeing her sprawling out, spazzing, as you continue to bury yourself deep inside her, your mind kept coming back to the thought you had earlier before you tossed her on the bed after that eventful dinner with her friends.

"You're so precious." You whispered as she giggled at such a contrast of your words from your actions.

"W-why?"

"N-nothing... Hehe, I love you daddy." She smiled before placing a kiss on your lips.

"I love you more." You respond with a kiss on her forehead as you continue to pound away at your girlfriend.

After a few more strokes in then Wonyoung suddenly gets you off of her before repositioning herself in all fours. Greeting you with a great view of her back side as she gives you a wink and you already knew that this'll be the position you'd finish.

You prompt yourself behind her before giving her plump ass a good slap as she yelps in surprise before giggling as your  member finally enters her with relative ease. You placed your hand on top of the mark your slap left.

"Mmhhmm yes!" Wonyoung hums as you start stroking her ass and your thrusting becomes more and more aggressive.

As you've started to keep a steady state of motion and power in your thrust your mind starts to get clouded by her airy and shaky moans. With Wonyoung's hand gripping the bedsheets rather tightly, you start to admire her back, glistening with sweat. You then unconsciously leaned down and placed a kiss along her shoulders "D-daddy!" She called.

"Yes my slut princess?"

"I love it!"

"Of course you do." You smiled with confidence as her face digs back into the bedsheets trying to muffle her moans.

Minutes of passionate fucking passed, Wonyoung mumbles something from the bedsheet. It got you thinking for a minute but when her core suddenly clasps your member significantly tighter you knew what's happening.

"Y-yes daddy! Uuugghh shit! It's so fucking gooood!!" She moans before you feel something gushing out of Wony.

You pulled out and to your surprise her juices sprayed all over your stomach. Wonyoung collapsed on the bed as you stood there looking at the scene of her juices dripping out of her core as your eyes traveled scanning your girlfriend's heavenly body and you realized that she has lost consciousness.

A scoff escapes you before fixing her position on the bed even swapping the bedsheets that are soaked with her wetness. With her body temperature lowering down you feel her shaking under your touch. You then took your discarded shirt and covered her, doing the best that you can to not wake her up.

Soon as you're finished with everything, you stand right next to your bed and stare at your Wonyoung who looks so peaceful sleeping, you may be a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish but it was nonetheless great. A smile forms across your face and your heart starts to skip a beat. All of a sudden Wony suddenly whines, you panic thinking you've done something wrong to disturb the peace of your princess.

"I'm sorry baby, did I woke you up?" You whispered as Wonyoung was trying to open her eyes.

"You didn't finish in me." She responded.

You chuckled hearing Wonyoung's reply as you joined her to bed and quickly embracing her before saying; "Later."

#ive #ive smut #ive wonyoung #wonyoung #ive x reader #male reader #wonyoung smut

[professional-benaddict]

@winterspiderpurrs and i are at it again,,, this time omegaverse😌😌 link here to previous parts (start from top)

tw: ending pregnancy with pills

———

Peter and Tony share a curious look. Who could be at the door? Did Pepper come back with Morgan? That is Peter’s first thought, but it turns out he was wrong.

Harley is in the entrance hall, taking his coat off.

“Hi. I- heh… I thought about ringing the doorbell, but then that felt weird. So, I just used the key.”

Peter waves his hand to show it was no big deal, then pulls his middle child into a hug.

“You’re welcome whenever, Harley.”

Harley hums affectionately. He kisses his Dad on the cheek as they pull away.

“Is Papa home?”

Just then, Tony appears from around the corner. He has a dirty towel in his hands, trying to rub off the oil and dirt from his hands. It is a nostalgic sight for Harley. But, the past memories are at risk of being tainted in this current future.

“Hi, Papa.”

“You staying for dinner?” Tony asks, sounding a bit too rough for Peter’s liking. The omega shoots his Alpha a look.

“If- if that’s okay.” Harley replies.

“Of course it is. Come on.” Peter says, inviting Harley inside.

The trio go their separate ways, for now. Tony promised to wrap up what he was currently doing in the garage, and then he’d start on dinner later. Harley goes to his old room, checking if he needs some books he has stored there. His uni dorm room isn’t the biggest, so he also stores some clothes at home.

Peter, well, he paces. He can tell Tony and Harley are tense. He knows why Harley is, at least. The beta is disappointed in his Papa for pulling back from the family lately. Peter only told him of one instance where Tony snapped at him, but now it seems that Harley has a grudge against his Alpha father.

The atmosphere is enough to occupy Peter’s mind completely, so much so that he doesn’t even notice the first cramps hitting him. The abortion pill is working.

An hour or so later, the three of them are sat around the dinner table, just like old times. It’s been a year since Harley moved out and went to uni, and 3 more since Ben did the same. Ever since the older brothers moved out, the dinner conversations when the family is reunited again usually revolves around Morgan.

“I remember when Ben and I stayed with Auntie Pep. She let us work on her laptop. It was all just keyboard smashes, but she let us print it out and pretend to go to meetings. But, I don’t think Morgan would enjoy the same.”

“No.” Peter laughs lightly. “When we pick her up again from Pep’s, she always has a new nail polish colour on her nails. So, I think beauty salon is the most popular thing there.”

Peter and Harley laugh together, but Tony hasn’t said much. Peter can tell Harley is looking for an opportunity to address what is going on. The omega puts down his fork, and sips on some water. The cramps are getting worse, and food is no longer appetising.

“Papa…?”

“Hm?”

“How… how’s the car?”

“It’s fine. But, that’s not what you really wanna ask, so I suggest you spit it out, son, whatever it is you wanna say.”

“Anthony.” Peter’s tone is sharp.

“Fine! I wanna know how you are! Is that such a bad thing!” Harley snaps back.

“I’m fine!”

“No, you’re not! Dad’s… dad’s been telling things. And- and you’re not yourself. I can tell. You’re my Alpha father, for god’s sake. I know I’m a Beta, so I don’t understand everything, but I want to.”

Tony has put down his fork too and is holding his head in his hands. The Alpha is breathing heavily, his veins pulsing and muscles tense. Peter can feel his violent energy, like a heat wave, next to him. It adds to his growing discomfort, so he rises calmly from the table.

“Papa… you okay?”

Tony snaps his head up. He briefly looks at his Beta son, but then his gaze flickers to Peter. He looks startled, worried, anxious. Afraid? His voice wavers when he speaks.

“Omega…?”

Peter hums in question. He follows Tony’s intense gaze, and only then does he notice all the blood between his legs.

#baby purrs #omegaverse au #starker #tony stark #peter parker

[thewingedbaron]

BG 3 Fic Feb Day 6!

A bit of a longer one today as the gang makes their way into the Underdark and Tav (Alyss) teaches the party about tracking.

You can also read this over on Ao3!

Day Six: Teaching each other how to do something. 

Alyss fanned her fingers over the mess of heavy boot prints embedded in the spongy earth. The Duergar that left them were apparently unconcerned that the myconoids would follow them, as they made no effort at all to disguise which way they had come from, and which way they had retreated after their raiding party had done their work. Alyss followed the footprints away from the main battle site, keeping a careful eye on their number and organization. There were eight to twelve of them including prisoners, she figured, though getting an exact number would have to wait until they found the camp. She smiled and whispered thanks to whatever devil had spawned her line had graced her with keen darkvision. Then, she frowned, and whispered a prayer that it wasn't Raphael. 

“How do you do that?” A voice asked, nearly causing Alyss to jump out of her skin. Out of the corner of her eye, she found Shadowheart leaning over her shoulder to look at the mess of tracks by their feet. 

“Do what?” She replied, trying her best to focus on marks on the ground and not how close the cleric’s face was to her own. The scent of lavender perfume and armor polish was a strangely distracting combination. 

“Tell how many there are, pick their direction, the lot of it.” Shadowheart replied, leaning a bit closer. Alyss shoved down the images of the night they shared above the waterfall as she tried to focus on the question. 

“Count the footprints and divide by two, most of the time.” She said. 

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Yes, thank you. I think I could have figured that one out on my own. But how do you know? This all looks like a scrambled mess to me.” 

Alyss thought for a moment, raking her eyes back across the jumbled markings on the ground like a scholar studying a particularly tricky tome. 

“There’s small differences,” She said hesitantly. “Like there, those two sets of tracks are smaller than the rest. Those would be the gnomes the duergar took. That set there is bigger than the gnomes but slightly smaller than the rest of the raiding party. More than likely a woman’s tracks.” Alyss took a breath, pointedly ignoring the scent of lavender. “And this set here, whomever they are, they favor their right leg. See how the heel imprint in the left track is a bit deeper? They were probably limping, that or they have some other injury that causes more weight on the left and less on the right.” 

Shadowheart nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, that makes sense.” She said after a long moment. “But how do you keep tracking them after the boot prints are gone? We’ve been following this group for ages, and this is the first time I’ve seen prints since the myconid colony.” 

“It’s easier with groups like this.” Alyss replied immediately. “Especially when about half of them are dragging their feet. They leave little scuff marks. Drag signs in the dirt, or bruised roots and broken plants. There have been dozens of little signs all along the path. You just have to know where to look.” 

The cleric of Shar’s brow furrowed. “Show me.” She said as they began to walk again. 

Alyss nodded. The party continued on the trail of the Duergar, pausing every so often so the ranger could slow off small scuffs on the stalks of mushrooms, and tiny drag marks in the dirt. Much to Alyss’ pleasure, Shadowheart was a quick learner, finding each mark a little faster along the trail. Eventually, Karlach and Wyll joined in. They made a game of it, counting who could find the next mark first. Alyss, of course, was disqualified by default.

“There, on those planks!” Shadowheart called, pointing out a series of muddy boot prints. 

‘That one hardly counts, it's so obvious!” Karlach groaned. 

“Still a track,” the cleric shot back. “I believe that makes it twenty eight to twenty to fifteen.” 

“How many points do I get for finding the duergar?” Astarion cut in for the first time since the game had started. The friendly bickering halted as the group considered the question. 

“I don’t believe finding the raiding party was actually part of the points system.” Wyll said. “It’s more about the journey than the destination.” 

“Ah well, if you would all get your noses out of the dirt, you would see that the destination is right bloody in front of us!” 

The group paused again, noticing for the first time that they were standing at the edge of a collapsed village on a tall cliff. Below them, a small, ramshackle harbor had been constructed on the edge of an underground lake. A handful of deep dwarves were tending to a boat there, looking as if they were preparing to launch. The gnomes, however, were nowhere in sight. 

“Well done, Astarion.” Wyll chuckled warmly. “I suppose that makes you the winner.” 

His comment was greeted with and uproar of complaints from the other two contestants. The vampire spawn, however, looked quite pleased with himself. 

“Alright, alright.” Alyss interrupted. “Quiet down before they hear us. We need to catch them before they decide to launch and leave us stranded on this side of the lake. Unless any of you fancy a swim?” 

Her question was met with embarrassed silence. 

“Right then, no more tracking. Let’s get to work.” The ranger said, leading the way down toward the makeshift harbor. One by one her companions followed until only Shadowheart remained on the cliff. 

“We’ll call it a draw.” She huffed to herself. Then, she followed her friends down into the dark. 

#bg3ficfeb #thewingedbaron #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate oc #shadowheart #baldurs gate 3 #writers on tumblr

[bcacstuff]

I've been spending the evening using my searching skills a bit again. No, no, no.... not what you think... this time for finding some things out about where and what they're filming currently, or since they started again after the summer break (and when they started again).

But first, let me put an alert out, since this post could (does!) contain spoilers!

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨 SPOILER ALERT 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Okay, here we go. I've been searching out some profiles of extras on the set. And wowowow, some keep a very helpful schedule on it...

It seems they've been starting mid August, costume fitting, lots of extras for redcoats and they had a Redcoat Bootcamp on Wednesday 17th Aug.

Also good to know, they're still testing for Covid, and it seems they've been filming near Forestmill since end of August until about the first week of September.

And yes, we already figured out those nightshoots on September 1&2.

But what did they film at Forestmills? Well.... redcoats.... must be something with a battle? As they had this bootcamp and also a battle rehearsal on August 25.

🚨 Huge spoiler 🚨

The Battle of Saragota per this extra's profile!

From the Outlander wiki:

In September 1777, Jamie meets Colonel Daniel Morgan and joins his group of riflemen. Following the First Battle of Saratoga, Claire has to amputate Jamie's finger. The Frasers meet Major General Benedict Arnold, and after more than thirty years Jamie is reunited with his cousin Hamish MacKenzie in the militia camp. During the Second Battle of Saratoga, Jamie narrowly misses shooting William in the head, and his distant cousin Brigadier General Simon Fraser is fatally wounded. Under a flag of truce, Jamie and Claire are invited to the British camp to provide comfort for Simon Fraser, who is dying.

This takes place after: The siege of Fort Ticonderoga in July, Claire is taken prisoner and encounters Jamie's illegitimate son, British lieutenant William Ransom, whom she met a few years earlier, and who is nice to her and provides her with some medical supplies. In the evening, Ian and Jamie rescue her from the hands of the British. They walk south and meet a militia unit before dawn, joining a larger militia body a few days later. Sometime later, Jamie meets a Polish military engineer Tadeusz "Kos" Kościuszko and offers his services as an interpreter, as Kos speaks French but not English. When Denny Hunter is taken by the British, Jamie and Ian go to the British camp to rescue him from hanging. They notice Jamie's son William and it is Ian who extracts Hunter – with help from William – while Jamie makes the diversion.

And before: A few days later, a mysterious man comes to the Fraser's tent and blackmails Jamie with his knowledge that Jamie murdered Dougal MacKenzie the day before the Battle of Culloden. Ian kills Mr. X, and flees with help from Jamie. The next day, General Gates asks Jamie to take the body of Simon Fraser back to Scotland, which is one of the terms of surrender of the British troops commanded by General Burgoyne, and Jamie agrees. On October 17, Jamie and Claire watch William depart with the defeated army, to Jamie's relief – his son is safe. The Frasers and Young Ian sail from New York to Scotland in early November aboard HMS Ariadne. In December, they arrive in Edinburgh, fetch Jamie's printing press from Andrew Bell and conduct some business. Jamie and Ian go to France for a few days to investigate Percy Beauchamp, leaving Claire behind to deal with Simon Fraser's leaking coffin and write a medical book. They bury Simon in Balnain in early January 1778.

I don't know if this is all going into the season, I'm still exploring the profiles for more, but so you've got an idea of what they're filming. Also don't know if they're filming things in the right order or out of order.

Another Covid test on September 13 in the studio, and more filming on September 14th as per some profiles. After that we learned per some tweets that another block has been finished and they were halfway the season.

Then this week filming resumed, and we already heard they seem to be filming at Kinloch Rannoch. Some had costume fitting on September 15th.

But oh... what is that? Outlander - Special - Kinloch Rannoch on Monday 19th September!!! Are they creating a special? For...?? Keeping fans engaged??? Announcing something????

I found this line in several profiles. At least 2 women and 2 men.

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ I'm curious!

And filming resumes there this week it seems, as I found a double for Roger filming on Tuesday 20th

and resumes as redcoat next week as you can see.

And another double for.... (little drumroll... ) Jamie! Today (Wednesday Sept. 21st)

and will also resume next week as redcoat with a costume fitting next Friday and... is nice enough to tell us they'll be back at Forestmill filming as of Monday 26th September. So... can we presume another battle?

I leave things here for now. Will keep an eye on things and see what or if I can find out more.

[zensations35]

Viral Paradox (TVA Loki Part 2)

Here is part 2! View part 1 here. Yall know I love my slow burn sicknesses. Here we have everyone slowly falling ill and I couldn't help having a little fun with genderfluid Loki. What you'll find in this chapter:

-Loki pulling party pranks and being absolutely chaotic good

-Tony being sick and drunk and sarcastic

-Big gay feels

-Loki getting punched in the face for being an asshole

Part 2: 

Friday

Loki trudges into the Avenger’s Tower, absolutely exhausted. It’s early--or late? 3 AM, dark in the tower, but at least Stark provided him with a room to sleep in. He has been awake all night, time hopping into various moments of Asgard’s past to piece together the materials for an antidote. He gathered enough ingredients (hopefully) for several vials of it. But it takes 24 hours to brew. He brought the ingredients to his place at the TVA, using his kitchen counter to stamp it all together and simmer. He’ll have to wait for it--time works differently at the TVA. He can’t just hop forward in time there.

Hopefully he can prevent the spread until then.

Yes, he determined that this is indeed the virus. Don’t ask what he had to do to figure that out. It wasn’t pleasant. But at least now, Loki can curb it here. 

He makes sure to enchant the scepter room to alert him if anyone enters it. Stark has peppered the room with sentires as well. On top of that security, another precaution Loki too was to magick half a dozen fake scepters, all hidden throughout the room. If the Variant comes after it again, it will give Loki and Stark enough time to react.

Overkill? Possibly. But Stark was adamant about not only having the party, but of keeping Loki out of the scepter room during it. He still doesn’t trust the trickster. 

The day of the party, preparation is a minimum. Mostly because Stark already owns a fully stocked bar with enough liquor to serve a gathering on Asgard.

Loki chooses to don a female form for these revels. He is less likely to be recognized, and besides, it has been too long since he has been a woman. 

She magicks herself a black slit dress, flashing a smooth thigh, nails printed with black and green polish. She can’t help accenting her dark curls with a few emerald highlights. 

Damn, she looks fabulous. She plans to make sure the guests take drinks from her. That’s the plan to prevent the spread of the virus--spike everyone’s drink with magic that will prevent infection. Ensure minimal damage to the humans attending. The problem is, if someone is already infected, her magic will do nothing. That’s what the antidote is for. 

On her way to the bar, Loki is intercepted by the host himself. Tony gives Loki a once-over. “Do I know you?”

“I’m your bartender today, Mister Stark.” Loki surprises herself by the husky tone in her voice. The low hum of heat follows Stark’s eyes, making the gaze feel like a brush across a canvas.

“That so?” Tony taps his lips with a finger. “I don’t remember hiring you. And I definitely feel like I should have.”

Oh Hel, Stark is flirting with her. It’s so obvious, even though his tone is casual. When Tony Stark flirts, people in Kansas can lick their fingers, hold it up to the wind, and know exactly where he’s fixed his gaze. 

“If I own the bar, does that mean I’m buying you all the drinks?” Tony’s lips tilt up.

Loki chuckles. “Hm, here for less than an hour and you’re already propositioning me.”

Tony blinks, nice and slow. Loki savors the seconds it takes him to realize who she is. Tony’s face deadpans once he does. 

“That’s funny,” he frowns. “I’m laughing, on the inside.”

Loki gestures to her body, “Do I look fabulous enough for your gathering?”

“Your face is prettier but that doesn’t mean I won’t punch it.”

“Don’t get rattled just because you find me attractive, Stark.”

“Oh, no problem there, now that I know it’s you.”

“Hm, are the breasts not enough to seduce you?”

“It’s not about the body--I can work with anything. But you specifically?” he snorts. He gets two steps away before he loses himself in the crook of his elbow, Hh’SHHH-eh!” He drinks in a wet sniff and points at Loki. “I’m keeping an eye on you, dust bunny.”

Loki rolls her eyes. “I quiver in fear.”

Guests start to fill the room. At first, Tony greets everyone individually, but he grows more distracted as the throng deepens.

Loki sashays through the crowd, washing the guests with charm and glamour. They all eventually allow her to ‘refill’ their drinks. She takes more than a little pleasure in this: deceit for a purpose other than mischief. Tipping dribbles of magic into each patron’s glass, ensuring their continued existence. 

It’s hard not to notice Stark around the party, his voice pitching louder with every drink, pausing often to sneeze messily into his elbow. At least he’s covering them. Idiot. 

Now it’s time to target the less vulnerable members of the party: the Avengers themselves. Loki’s sharp eyes skim the room, landing on Rogers leaning against a railing upstairs. He’s chatting with his foxy falcon friend. Perfect.

Loki doesn’t want to approach them at the same time. She hangs back, preening, smoothing her dress. When Rogers departs, Loki glides up to Sam, a smooth smile playing across her red lips.

“Hey there,” she pulls her tray down, bottles ricketing. “Top you off?”

Sam gives her an easy, if disinterested nod. “Sure, why not.” He holds out his tumbler and Loki pours liquor through a magic-coated finger.  

“Don’t you look handsome tonight,” Loki winks at him. “Do you always radiate such charm?”

Sam chuckles, easing his elbows against the railing. “You’re nice, but I have a girlfriend.”

Liar. Loki can smell the tang of falsehoods.

“Oh?” she presses her lips into a pout.

“Yeah,” Sam dodges her gaze by taking a gulp of his drink. 

“Too bad,” Loki squeezes his bicep. “Enjoy your drink~” she heads back to the bar.

Pity. She chose the wrong form to seduce him. 

Stark’s friend Rhodey seems quite pleased as he regales other guests with war stories. Loki makes sure to listen intently and gives him a nice throaty laugh during the punchline. 

“You’re a riot, Mister Rhodes.” It’s easy to slip magic into his cup. Parties make humans so unawares. 

On to Barton, who is manspreading on an otherwise vacant couch, nose buried in a novel. Loki leans over the back of the seat, offering the bottle. “Refill?” she asks.

Barton doesn’t take his eyes off the text, hand fluttering over his empty glass. This man clearly isn’t here to mingle. It’s not his style.

Loki mixes the liquor, unable to resist adding a dash of Asgardian’s finest. Barton will enjoy that hangover tomorrow. Perhaps that was malicious, but Loki couldn’t help a bit of revenge for that arrow years ago.

A laugh bubbles up and Loki realizes she’s having fun. Ridiculous, perhaps, but this task is the perfect excuse to smother herself in chaos and mischief. It makes her feel as tipsy as if she had a drink herself. 

She can’t help testing her luck with the rush of manic glee. She sidles up to Thor, who is chanting a variation of an Asgardian drinking song to a group of guests.

Loki serves them all, grinning and tossing her hair. All of them like what they see--save for her brother.

Not surprising. Thor has always been less physically lustful, his interest more geared toward the mind, not the body.

She swings her way toward Banner who clutches what looks like a soda in a glass. “Refill?” Loki asks.

Banner shakes his head, “No, sorry.”

“It’s almost empty! Just let me--”

Bruce snatches Loki’s thin wrist before she can touch the glass. “Sorry. I don’t like people touching my drinks.” He releases her and softens his words, “Bad history.”

“Ah…” Loki tries not to show her disappointment. She’ll have to come up with another way to magick him. 

Back at the bar, Natasha has taken to serving drinks in a more stationary arena. Loki sets her tray down on the counter to refill the liquors. 

Nat nods kindly to a guest who plucks the drink she just made for him. When he departs, she begins to wipe the counter. 

She stiffens mid-reach, squeezing the cloth as her head bobs, “Hht-XSh!” her body jolts with effort. She remains clenched over the counter, nose buried in her arm. 

Finally, she decides to stand, wicking a thumb under her nose as subtly as possible.

Is it spreading already? Loki was sure she had a lid on it all. But, really, it isn’t surprising. If any of them have had contact with Stark before the party, the virus would be working its way through the group. If it’s the same as when Loki had it decades ago, it moves fast and hits hard. 

Loki twists her wrist, manifesting a silk handkerchief and hands it to Natasha.

The Widow quirks her brow at Loki. “Interesting choice of accessories.” She plucks the cloth and dabs at her nose. “I thought these went out of style when we discovered germs.”

Loki snorts. Not if you’re magic. She tinkles a fake laugh, “I do a lot of laundry.” She makes sure to enchant it nice and clean before taking it back from Natasha.

“Are you feeling ill?” Loki asks.

“I’m fine, ignore me,” Nat says, voice pitching lower the more she speaks. She leans her rear against the back of the counter and pulls out her phone. Her face crimps as she reads the screen. She sniffles as she types furiously, shoulders strung and hard with the weight of her task.

Loki snatches the opportunity to reach out and graze Natasha’s temple with two fingers. 

The Widow’s mind resembles an in-depth to-do list, constantly ticking off tasks and filing away information for later use. But under the surface, something pulses. Loki senses the familiar spear of self-hatred. It surprises her, almost infects her thoughts, memories of a childhood in Thor’s shadow dribbling over his vision…

Loki grunts as her arm is wrenched back, Natasha instinctively defending herself. Loki has to fight the urge to retaliate in kind. 

Nat pops back to reality and releases her, “Sorry. I--hpTSCH!” she barely catches her nose in her wrist. “Mn..” She lets out a throaty cough that alerts passersby. 

“Hey Nat, you ok?” Maria Hill slides onto a barstool, martini glass in her forked fingers. 

Nat brushes her nose with the heel of her palm. “Fine. I swear.”

“You’d say that no matter what,” Maria frowns. 

“Drink?” Loki holds out a goblet filled with swirling orange liquid. 

“No,” Maria says, pushing her own drink away, “Not if she’s sick.”

Natasha pinches her lips at her. 

“What? I’m serious. You should rest. You’re always so worked up--”

“Actually, I will, thanks.” Natasha grabs the cocktail and turns. “I’ll be in my office.” She glides out of the bar and heads down the hall, hips swaying as she sips the drink.

Maria bites her lip as she watches Nat leave. Loki snags Maria’s drink, quickly drizzling magic into the glass. “Want to join her?”

“Yeah…” Hill mumbles, eyes still following Natasha.

Loki holds out the glass. Maria snaps out of her trance and blinks at the drink. “Um,” she plucks it by the stem, “I guess.” Her lips roll and she gives the hall a faraway stare. “I gotta…” she clips away, hurrying after Nat.

No mistaking that look in her eyes. Hopefully she will drink at least half. Loki will have to track down the Widow later. She turns to scan the room, her gaze withering as she sees the guests emptying from the party. 

Loki swipes her brow, feeling sweaty and slightly shaky. The euphoria from earlier is crashing and she feels the weight of her magic pressing down on her shoulders. It’s a different kind of exhaustion, one that can only be repent with rest. 

She winds her way around the party, ticking off guests who have left and letting the drapes of enchantment fall away gradually. She can keep this in check. 

Something glints out of the window. A green gash of light, arcing across the black sky. A shooting star…humans do so love the romance of them.

“Dust bunny!” An arm winds around Loki’s neck and Tony grins at her, cheeks rosy and dimpled. “You,” he points at Loki with the hand curled around his tumbler, “need to relax. You’re killing the vibe, man. Lady.” He tips the drink, “Whatever you are.”

“Are you drunk?” Loki asks, but his ripe breath answers the question for her.

“You bet.”

Loki peels herself out of his grasp. “Are you mad? What about the scepter?”

“We got a whole tower full of people who kick ass for a living. Lighten up.”

“Are you not even a little concerned?”

“I’m always concerned, Mr. Bunny.” Tony takes a glug. “In fact, I--” he blinks, face popping to life. He wrenches his arm up, spilling into the crook of his elbow, “HmSHH!” his steps stutter forward and his drink sloshes over the rim, “IehGSchh-nn!” 

Loki steadies him with a glare. “Lovely. Really. Now that you’ve infected the town, I believe it’s time for you to retire.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Well,  you obviously cannot handle being responsible yourself.”

“Honestly? That’s your fault,” Tony growls.

“Excuse me? How is your imprudence my doing?”

“The portal,” Tony slurs, “I can’t…” he shunts his gaze down into his drink, staring intently as if the ice will dance.

Loki frowns, curiosity overtaking her. She reaches out, the tips of her fingers caressing Tony’s temple.

Mark 4 Mark 7 Mark 9 all in lab--

What if he’s lying--could all be a trick--

it’s gonna be ok

No it’s not--scepter--danger--do something! Do something now!

No, you’re overreacting--everything’s fine everything’s--

Loki--dangerous--liar--punch him punch him punch--

No No No--Stop thinking Stop thinking Stop thinking Stop--

Suns and Stars, even a dumptruck full of liquor can’t calm this man’s mind. No wonder he has so many vices. 

Tony slaps Loki’s hand away. “Do you look both ways before getting on my fucking nerves, dust bunny?”

Loki’s lips twist in a glare. Tony finishes his drink and nods. “I gotta go. It’s VIP time.” He wanders away, gathering up the remaining guests. VIP time seems to be for Avengers only. 

Loki sighs, a headache budding. Did she get everyone? Where is Romanoff? She’s certain she got every guest who left. All of this magic has left her feeling drained. She can feel the energy whirlpooling out of her.

Who is left? She ticks off her fingers, frowning. 

The men are all gathered around a table, playing ‘Who can lift Thor’s hammer?’ Loki tsks. Humans. They’ll never wrap their minds around the workings of gods.

Loki winds around the room, hoping to lure someone out of the group when a sound stills her cold.

“Heh-EKXSSHH-ew!!” the loud expulsion startles everyone to silence. It’s a commanding sneeze--the type that demands attention. And it came from Rogers.

“Whoa,” Steve gives his head a tiny shake. “Haven’t done that in a while.”

Loki feels her blood ice. Shit! She’s losing the advantage here. If they’ve all been in contact with the virus, her protection spell won’t do a damn thing.

“Hrrshh-eh!” Steve burrows down, spine bending, “Ehshhh-ieu! HiehSSHHK!” 

“Steve, jesus, are you--” Sam throws himself onto his feet. 

Steve pulls himself up and wipes his nose. “What…” his eyes gloss when he sees the blood coating his fingers. 

“You have a nosebleed?” Bruce asks, alarmed.

“This…never happ--” Steve presses a palm to his forehead and groans. 

Sam folds a clump of tissues under his nose, brow pinching as hard as his fingers. Bruce leans down and tests his forehead. 

“He’s warm, not feverish yet.”

“What the hell…”

Loki hasn't moved from her statuesque position. She is startled out of her daze when Tony stomps drunkenly toward her.

“Stark, I--”

He slams her against a pillar, arm pressed to her throat.

“Tony!” someone gasps.

“Did you do this?” Tony growls.

“Why yes, I am in the habit of giving people random nosebleeds. I’m kinky like that.”

There it is. The snark. Loki can’t seem to help sliding in the sass, even when the read of the room begs for sincerity.

And she gets what she deserves. Tony punches her clean in the face. 

Loki wasn’t expecting it. She lashes out with a blast of green, summoning the dregs of magic left in her. Tony is tugged away by the others, and the room goes completely still. 

“What in the…”

They are all staring at Loki. Loki starts to speak but instead of his disguised voice, he sounds as he usually does.

Shit. He pats himself down, peering at his clothes and body. He’s himself again, wearing his TVA uniform. He is no longer disguised.

He looks up at the furious faces of the Avengers, feeling a slap of deja vu.

Well. Shit.

#lo/ki #mcu loki #illness #snz fic #whump #time travel #snz #stark snark #snzfic #mar/vel #aven/gers #everyone gets sick #everyone gets whumped #please enjoy my descent into madness

[the-grimsqueaker]

Hi! I saw your post about the tickets. I’m really sorry that happened. I have a bad habit of offering potential solutions rather than empathy when empathy is what is needed, so please feel free to ignore this.

May I suggest that along with calling the box office, you have screenshots available of the money coming out of your bank account on your bank app, the confirmation email, screenshots from the website of the seating charts with your seats circled, and a nice picture or digital scan of your ID to prove who you are legally. Make sure you mention the address you would have sent the tickets to and the email address you used in the ordering process. Offer to email all of this to the box office. Actually get the email draft ready with all of these screenshots and details and be ready to just input any email they give you and click send. The more information you have the better, not just because it may help them track down your tickets, but also because it shows that you are willing to try and are a real person, as well as because it gives you a plan of action, which is super helpful for high anxiety situations such as this. Remember to ask for Will-call.

Even if you don’t get tickets ahead of time, if you are able, show up at the concert venue and give them your confirmation receipt at the door. They might not let you in, but they might send you to the correct humans that will actually be able to help you.

If all else fails, make different plans for you and your mom. Don’t let the day be a waste! You have a hotel room, so turn it into a spa day by going to the nearest store and picking up some fancy lotions or face masks and nail polish. Maybe go out and do a scavenger hunt where you challenge each other to find things like “a shoe that would never fit a human” or “a vinyl record of an artist with pun on it” don’t go back to the hotel until you’ve crossed off everything on your list.

I’m sorry if that was a weird or unhelpful message to receive from a stranger. Feel free to ignore this. ❤️

Hey, thank you, I actually genuinely appreciate this.

I was freaking out 6 hours ago, but I have since had a couple of hours sleep (got woken up by the world's loudest and clunkiest air-conditioner) and I have a plan of action to call the box office at 9am and find out exactly what they need from me. I've got my confirmation email up on my phone already so I don't have to find it again, and I've got all my I.D on me and stuff. Hopefully they can either print my tickets at the venue or send them digitally (preferably the first option).

I booked these tickets a year ago, and there were no follow up reminders, and I vaguely remember something about "you will receive your tickets one month before the event" (which I did not) which is dumb why not just send them when they're paid for? Or better yet have the "this email is not your ticket" section of the email be at the tippy top of the email, instead of "you're in!" Followed by my seat information. Which looks suspiciously like a ticket!!

When Pink was last in my city my mum was supposed to come with me and she got the flu the day of the concert and couldn't make it. She'll be devastated if she misses out again just because I'm a moron, particularly after the shitshow of the last couple of years with her getting cancer and going through treatment and beating it and everything.

Like at minimum she might just never speak to me again.

[elliesangel222]

a summer full of losers!

summary- when you get transferred to a prestigious summer school, you are hoping for the worst. until you meet your new roomate, ellie williams.

part 1 ★

I arrived at the front of the school, finally. My bag drops from my clammy hands as I take in the mass of my new home for the summer. The walls and beams seem to be staring down at me, the school screams of money.

I do not belong here.

my heels click against the polished floor as I lug my bag to my new dorm. i look down at the piece of paper i had clenched in my hands, '202'

The flashy numbers catch my eye as I trail through them, looking for my dorm. dorm 150 is the last room on this floor. I bite my lip nervously. Suddenly, the door opens and I'm greeted by a girl. "Hi! are you okay?"

she asks with concern in her voice, i take in her features. she has long black hair tied into a ponytail and a strong nose, her face littered with freckles ontop her tan skin.

"er, yeah.. I seem to be a little lost. This place is huge and I have no idea what I'm doing!" i chatter anxiously, she lets me ramble on about my situation for about another thirty seconds before she cuts me off. "no no it's okay! i would be in the same situation if i hadnt been coming to this god forsaken place every single summer.'' She laughs and I smile sheepishly as I list off my dorm number and follow as she leads me up into a grand elevator.

The music seems to taunt me as we rise to the second floor, finally the elevator dings and we walk down the hallway.

Dorm 202 stares at me as I give the girl a smile and head inside my new home.

The door handle creaks as I step inside and I'm immediately hit with the stench of stale cigars and weed, Depeche mode blasts and I almost immediately feel overwhelmed. I look over the room. There are two beds and my side of the room is completely bare, waiting. The other side of the room is a disaster. clothes litter the floor and art scatters the walls messily. I see the bathroom door down a small hallway inbetween both sides of the room for the two girls who share each room. The door is closed and I can hear raspy singing as the water hits the floor.

'My roommate must be in the shower' I shrug as I set my bag on the bed and unpack my clothes and bedding. as soon as i'm done unpacking i go and change my clothes, i lift my shirt over my head and strip down to my underwear, a cherry print underwear set i had bought myself a few days ago, i admire my bra for a second as i go and find my pajamas,

"SHIT" I yell in frustration, my pajamas are nowhere to be found.

"nice bra" I hear a voice behind me say and i suddenly realize the music has been turned off. my face flushes the deepest shade of red and i swear i can feel the tears building up as i mumble a quiet "thanks"

This is an awkward way to meet my roommate.

next chapter

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tlou #ellie the last of us

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Obito and I

Ok this is so so silly and I've had the idea a while ago and just thought fuck it I'm going to do it for Obito week. yeah Uh, I don't know how to explain it.

Uchiha Obito and uh, me I guess

Rated G.

3178 words

Ao3 Link [x]

for @obito-week: always watching & free spot.

One afternoon Uchiha Obito appears in my room. [..] The man is all an Obito has to be, tall, broad, black haired, facial scars, weird eggplant coloured coat and all. He seems almost as shocked to see me as I am to see him. As if I’m also a figure that has just jumped out of a story book.

One afternoon Uchiha Obito appears in my room.

I just finished a philosophy session on the toilet, head full of ideas about where I could take my afternoon nap as I hear a little sound not unlike a big piece of plastic being sucked up into a vacuum cleaner. 

“The neighbours are at it again”, I curse to myself as I pull up the sweats I should have changed three days ago. There is still this white stain on it from where I dropped toothpaste and each time I see it I remind myself that I have to wash it, but I never do.

I feel grumpy as I walk back into the bedroom and almost drop my phone when there is Obito standing in front of me.

“Obito!” I almost yell.

The man is all an Obito has to be, tall, broad, black haired, facial scars, weird eggplant coloured coat and all. He seems almost as shocked to see me as I am to see him. As if I’m also a figure that has just jumped out of a story book.

With a shaking finger that has exceptionally perfectly applied violet nail polish on it that makes me wonder for a moment when the hell he has learned that and why the hell he can do it much better than me, he points at the pictures on my wall. His mouth opens and closes and then opens again.

 “Why?” It's the only thing that he seems to have the ability to say.

I follow his eyes to the art print he is pointing at, an especially great fanart that I once got during a request event. Obito is on it, hair dripping with water, tongue out and aimed at Kakashi in front of him, they are both half naked. An artwork I truly cherish, the first time I jumped up and down in my - this- room in the morning after some amazing artist fulfilled the art wishes that I could never fulfil myself.

Still, I must admit, that must be really weird to see for someone like Obito. I almost feel ashamed that he has to see something so private not only to myself but himself, as if I was a paparazzi taking pictures of him against his will. Half naked and with his best frenemy and all.

I shrug. “I like the ship.” I don’t know what else to tell him.

Maybe he thinks I’m mad. Probably he thinks I’m mad. Quite likely he thinks I’m mad. His eyes harden, the rinnegan in its incredibly unnatural colour peers into me. His mouth forms the word “ship”, but he lets his finger sink.

I wonder if this would be the right time to ask him. I step from one foot to another with insecurity. My hands feel sweaty. Well, it is not any day that a character from a book suddenly appears in front of you. This isn’t Inkheart. I didn’t read him into existence. Or did I? Who knows, maybe sitting on the toilet and thinking of naps triggered this sort of thing.

“Why are you in my bedroom?”. I finally find my courage. 

Obito stares as if it is an outrageous question. Then his face frowns and he waves frantically: “I just materialised here. I don’t even know where I am, who you are and why you have pictures of me hanging on your wall.”

I can’t help but be flattered. My own drawings of him are good enough to make him think they are pictures. Inside I'm giddy. I can’t wait to tell my tumblr friends about this.

“Are you stalking me?” He says, pointing again, another art with him and Kakashi, just that Yamato is with them too. A collaborative art I made with two of my tumblr friends that I am also personally very proud of. “That’s really creepy you know?!”

“Takes one to know one.” I have no mercy.

He clearly isn’t pleased. He steps away from my wall and inspects the computer in front of it. I assume he has never seen a computer before, especially not one with a double screen and light up keyboard and mouse setup  like any good Sims gamer should have. 

He rubs his chin.

“Electricity!” 

“It sure is,” I say and feel like I’m talking to one of my dead grandparents. 

“Electricity - good. Electricity - works - maybe.” He is thinking obviously, but apparently that has made his brain go back into caveman mode. 

Caveman mode. I chuckle to myself. 

“Bring me back!” he points at me again. “Whatever you did to get me here, make it go away.”

“I did not bring you here,” I shrug my shoulders again. “I don’t know where you were and how you got here, I just came here and you were there. Maybe you made a kamui mistake.”

I wonder if kamui was always connected to my bedroom and then my next thought is, if kamui was always connected to my bedroom, why didn’t Kakashi come through? I agree with myself that it would have been more fair if Kakashi had come through.

“How do you know about Kamui?!” He seems genuinely offended.

Well, there is nothing but forward, I think and let out a deep sigh. Having to have this conversation really wasn’t what I thought I would be doing when I got up in the morning. All I can do now is hope he takes the truth well enough not to jump at me. Even without his powers, Obito could probably crush me.

And while there were times in which I have declared on the internet that I want him to crush me, I would rather not right now. Especially not if there are pancakes for dinner.

“You are a fictional character, my man.” I say and pick up the Kakashi pillow on my bed and shake it a little. “From a book, you know? This is merchandise. I’m a fan.” I wave to the pictures and wiggle with the pillow again. 

A moment passes, then another. Both of Obito’s eyes are focused on my fluffy Kakashi pillow, a vein on his head pulsing dangerously. 

“Fictional?” he grumbles, his hand in a fist. 

I prepare myself to get crushed afterall. At least I would die with my head in his titties, which is, I decide, not so bad of a death. “Yes, fictional.”

He turns around and punches into my wooden desk so hard that the keyboard loses most of its keys and my graphic tablet tumbles down to the floor with a crash. 

Probably that means he isn’t taking it very well, I think to myself.

-

Obito can’t read books that are not written in Japanese I realise as I hand him the few light novels I have of the Naruto franchise. None have the manga pictures, but I have to assemble my keyboard again first before I can turn on my computer to show the manga to him.

Truly, I should have known that Obito can’t read English or German, why the hell would a character that was by all means made up by a Japanese man be able to read that? But then again I can communicate with him well enough without needing subtitles. This is all very strange.

“My name!” he yells and points at the page that he holds open. So he can read his own name. I feel like a proud mother.  “Am I in this story too?”

Lazily I take the book from him. “No, sorry to tell you that you are dead.”

His eyes go so wide that I fear another punch is coming so I say: “But in the heart of many of us fans you are always alive.” How cringe, but it is the truth.

“Are you stalking Kakashi even more than me?” Obito picks up the figure I have on my desk of Kakashi in his Anbu uniform and then also picks up my pillow from my bed weighing them both up and down. 

He seems surprisingly intrigued by the way Kakashi’s muscles are shown on the figure. 

“I like him the most,” I say. “He is my favourite character.”

Instinctively I hold my hand out to save my precious figure from slipping out of Obito’s hands. He already looks angry again, as if I have personally hurt him by having a character I would like more than him. 

Well, people with the best taste in ships, like me, have always known that Obito secretly is obsessed with Kakashi. After all that was the entire point of the story (I like having my own delusions.)

Finally I get my shit together and turn on the computer. My wallpaper is a rotation of many different wallpapers, but of course this moment that Obito sits right beside me the rotation choses a picture of him with Team Minato as a kid. I quickly open a browser window to hide it, but he has already seen it.

“I don’t remember we ever took a picture like this together,” he says with a frown. 

Right, he thinks the fanart are “pictures” of him. “It’s just art,” I say dismissively. “It’s not canon.”

His eyes narrow. 

“Ta-da!” I say and present him the coloured version of the Naruto manga.

Obito stares at the pages as I scroll around, not trusting him to know how the mouse works. I know that Konoha will eventually get computers too, but only after Obito’s death and even if they already had them, I wouldn’t trust his violent urges.

He stares as I scroll and scroll. Then finally, as if it took him 10 chapters to realise as much, he says: “Wait, I’m not the main character?”

-

The news that he is nothing more than a side character in his own life comes hard to Obito. I empathise with him, I too have severe main character syndrome while being an extra at best. Maybe that is why he finally stops looking so angry at me each time I say something. Trauma bonding over your insignificance.

“And you… like this story?” Obito says and he sounds as if it makes no sense to him that anyone would like a narrative in which he isn’t the main character.

I shrug, which I feel I have done a lot in the last few hours: “It has its moments.”

His eyes wander over the several pieces of memorabilia and fanart I have scattered around my bedroom and he nods his head. “You seem obsessed,” he notes.

“There are people worse than me,” I clarify, because I don’t want to accept the very real assessment that nonetheless makes me look bad. “At least I don’t use bots to vote in a popularity poll that literally doesn’t matter or send anon hate.

Obito blinks at me and the wheels behind his eyes are turning. I push his chair away from the desk so I can sit in front of my computer again and he just lets it happen. Surely the world he is from has chairs with wheels, I think to myself, or maybe Obito really had never seen anything but the inside of his cave.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “So there are more of you?”

“More of me?” I can’t shadow clone in this world, I think.

“People who enjoy these… drawings.” Obito snaps with his finger in the direction of the computer screen.

I laugh. I can’t help it. “God yes” I say and hold my stomach. “Millions. It is very popular actually, one could argue that it is one of if not the most famous shonen manga that has ever been popular. Not only Japan though, that is also in the west.”

His nose crinkles and I can feel another anger outburst incoming so I pick up my keyboard and hold it over the desk just so I don’t have to play puzzle all over again now that I have it put back together.

“And you all,” he waved with his finger, “are Kakashi stalkers?”

“Oh no, many are also your stalkers.” I reply and to prove it to him I open tumblr and push the screen into his face. 

“See? There are entire blogs that are dedicated to you. Personally, I think their hot takes can be a little weird, because in my head canon the reason for your personality shift is a deep rooted delusion with the world that is later fixed by giving you someone to believe in in Naruto and on top of that you are changed by the trust that Kakashi puts in you, a trust that you craved as a child but never got until the very end. Generally people hate the redemption through death type of storyline, but I feel like a self sacrifice fits you very well, at least from what you know before you lost yourself to the personality of Madara.”

His jaw swings open. I realise that I won’t ever convince him that I am not in fact obsessed if I keep talking like an obsessed person. 

I add: “Uh, that’s just literary analysis though, I don’t know you personally.” 

“Roll the tiny wheel,” Obito says and I assume he means to force me to scroll. 

Like always, tumblr does not disappoint and it takes me about 1.06 minutes to find a picture in which Obito is shirtless and posing. I blink looking at the thickness of his thighs and the large man titties showing on his chest. The artist was kind enough to put at least five fire emojis as a caption. I unashamedly press the like button.

“Who took that picture?” Obito says, outraged. “That is an invasion of privacy!”

I laugh. “Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t see that this is a drawing. You don’t look like this.” I gesture at his body form. 

Obito takes the mouse from me and I have to hold on to the cable so he doesn’t rip it out. He scrolls on. There are so many half naked pictures of him that have him posing or crying and I am very unhappy about my loss of mouse privileges because that means I can’t like them all to keep them for later.

“These people,” he gestures, “when they draw me like this. That means they like me?”

Now his eyes suddenly shine bright as if he is a kid again. It is very cute, though a little concerning that the prospect of someone really liking him makes him so very happy.

“Oh yes, they want to jump your bones.” I avoid mentioning that I am one of those people that generally wants to jump his bones. “They think you are hot shit.”

For the first time since he has literally appeared in my room Obito smiles with satisfaction. Then he moves the mouse and scrolls on to another fanart of him and Kakashi kissing. His eyes stay frozen on it, then he picks up the mouse and throws it against my screen.

-

Legs pressed against his body Obito sits on the floor in front of the door to my balcony. My monitor is not damaged and neither is my mouse I realise with relief while he murmurs behind me. 

“People just like the ship,” I try to explain. “They are usually not that serious about it. It is all in good fun.” I weigh my head. “Well unless it is on twitter because that’s just a warzone.”

I sit down next to him and can’t believe the absurdity of the situation. There he is, Uchiha Obito, the pride of the Uchiha clan, or, well the pride of Uchiha Madara, or well more like… the victim of Uchiha Madara’s pride of the Uchiha clan, and is gloomy because people in a world he doesn’t inhabit think he and his best frenemy also sometimes kissed. Truly the weirdest of turns of events.

“Sometimes you say such weird things.” Obito says into his knees. “I don’t even know what you mean.” He looks up at me. “I wonder if your definition of ship is different from mine.”

Probably not, I think, but probably yes at the same time. “You see, when people like two fictional characters that they think have chemistry, they often want them to end up together in the safe harbour of love. So we call it shipping.” I make it up on the spot and feel very confident that my explanation is correct. “Giving characters a happy ending is just very fulfilling. Or giving them a sad ending. Or first we hurt them then we make them happy. Or just making them suffer for love… everything really.”

“But Kakashi?”

“You have chemistry.” Undeniably.

“All we do is fight!” He looks at me from the side.

“Like I said,” I repeat, “You have chemistry.”

Obito sits up straight against the window of my balcony door. He puffs out his chest. “No, we really don’t.” He says it as if it was a fact. “You and that.. that art person are just the weird ones. I’m sure those that really like me would never think something as outrageous.”

“Maybe,” I say and shrug, “but it is very popular.”

—

I feel like a teacher in the following hour as I explain to Obito what Ao3 is, how it works, how to search for something and how it clearly shows that one of the most popular ships have him and Kakashi paired up. Clearly, I am not the weirdo here in this world and I want him to accept that.

While he keeps scrolling on, now much more gentle with the mouse, I sit on my bed and turn pages in a book that I’m pretending to read while I watch him closely.

Sometimes he sighs. “That’s not true” or “I would not say that” or “That’s disgusting” and I have to hold myself back to stand behind him to see what things warrant such reactions.

“These people”, he gestures to the monitor, “all know so much about my life. More than I have ever told anyone.”

I sigh and turn a page in my book I’m not reading. “That is because we all know your story.”

“Because I am a fictional character.” Obito sounded exasperated.

“Because you are a fictional character,” I confirm.

“But thi-, this is like you are watching me at all times,” he whines and waves with his arms again. “Like every little of my interactions with others is analysed and turned into writing. I feel rather violated.”

I would apologise for the fandom, but it is not like we were aware that Obito would be a sentient being that could appear out of the story at the blink of an eye as if inkheart was real. I can’t help but feel sorry for him though, this day was a lot to take in. “I guess we should eventually find out how to get you back where you belong.” But for that I first need to find out how he got to me of all people.

-

bonus doodles that a friend made while I was reading the story to them:

#fanfiction things #obito week 2023 #obito week #this is so silly im sorry #uchiha obito #crack shit im sorry

[randomstufftournament]

Welcome to ROUND 3 of the Random Stuff Tournament!

Round 2 was a tough one for some of our favorites, but others emerged victorious. We even had a challenger return from the brink of defeat! #ratsweep (I am being neutral but the excitement about the rat’s comeback made me laugh a lot)

This past round was also marred by my being a dumbass and forgetting to include/exclude things from the round that should/should not have been there. I’ll try to do better this time! (Please let me know if you notice another mistake like those)

Here are the matchups: (randomly shuffled!)

LipSmacker flavored lip gloss vs Tapetum lucidum

discarded mcdonalds toy found on the sidewalk vs the first email account you ever made

swinging so high on a swing set that you become briefly weightless at the top of the arc vs the shoes that Muntadhar al-Zaidi threw at george bush

Wojtek the Bear, a member of the Polish Army in exile during World War II vs a rat holding a strawberry in its little hands

Big fluffy bathrobes vs the composer fryderyk chopin's heart, encased in a jar of booze in a church in the middle of Warsaw, Poland

wet log on the ground, home to moss and fungi vs bread

a Geiger counter but for great pussy vs Chromodoris Willani

Revolutionary Girl Utena (1997) vs Glass swan sold at a gas station

73 dachshunds vs pigeon

The emoticon <3 vs Garlic Bread

roasted garlic vs sweet potato maki

single unmatched sock (its mate has been lost) vs the rabies virus

Skeleton vs a duck with perfectly formed human hands instead of wings coming out of its shoulders

Petrichor vs paw print set in concrete

the giant catfish in the Chornobyl reactor cooling pond vs glow in the dark stars to put on your bedroom ceiling

green gummy bear vs a dog who is normal in every way except that it can identify any plant by its scientific name

world peace vs the person who keeps fucking up these polls (I had to add this option so I could keep glow-in-the-dark stars bc I forgot it last round.)

These will be posted over the next few days!

And as a heads up: I’ll need to do another second-chance wildcard for next round (since there's an odd number of matchups). Instead of picking options that won by the closest margins this time (mathy, predictable, boring) I think I’ll pick based on ~audience passion~.

Got something that lost in Round 2 that you want to see back in the running? Tell me why I should give it a second chance! (Send me an ask, reply to this post, tag me in something… whatever you want to do.)

The four I pick based on that are going to be put into a wildcard poll like the last time. If I don’t get enough input from y’all ( there are only a few dozen people following this blog, after all) I’ll also use your previous tags to determine audience passion.

#polls #tournament #tumblr polls #bracket

[teescrew]

How to Choose the Perfect Custom Cap in Merrylands: A Complete Guide

Are you looking to add a personal touch to your wardrobe with a custom cap in Merrylands? With so many options available, finding the perfect cap can seem like a daunting task. But fear not! In this complete guide, we'll walk you through everything you need to know to choose the perfect custom cap that suits your style, personality, and needs.

Understanding Your Needs:

Before diving into the world of custom caps, it's essential to understand your needs and preferences. Ask yourself:

What will I be using the cap for? Is it for everyday wear, sports, or a special occasion?

Do I prefer a specific style or material?

What is my budget for a custom cap?

Exploring Style Options:

Custom caps come in a variety of styles to suit every taste and occasion. Some popular styles include:

Baseball Caps: Classic and versatile, baseball caps are a timeless choice suitable for casual wear and outdoor activities.

Snapback Caps: Known for their adjustable snap closure, snapback caps offer a customizable fit and a modern, urban aesthetic.

Trucker Caps: Characterized by their mesh back panels, trucker caps are perfect for warm weather and outdoor adventures.

Beanie Caps: Ideal for colder climates, beanie caps provide warmth and comfort while adding a touch of style to your outfit.

Consider which style best reflects your personal style and complements your wardrobe.

Choosing the Right Material:

The material of your custom cap can greatly impact its comfort, durability, and appearance. Common materials include:

Cotton: Breathable and comfortable, cotton caps are perfect for everyday wear and warmer climates.

Polyester: Lightweight and moisture-wicking, polyester caps are ideal for sports and outdoor activities.

Wool: Warm and insulating, wool caps are perfect for colder weather and outdoor adventures.

Select a material that suits your climate and intended use for the cap.

Selecting Colors and Design:

One of the most exciting aspects of choosing a custom cap is selecting the colors and design. Consider:

Color: Choose colors that complement your wardrobe and reflect your personal style. Whether you prefer bold and vibrant hues or subtle and understated tones, there's a color combination for everyone.

Design: From embroidered logos to printed graphics, the design options for custom caps are virtually limitless. Think about whether you want to add a personal logo, artwork, or text to your cap to make it truly unique.

Considering Customization Options:

Many custom cap providers offer a range of customization options to make your cap truly one-of-a-kind. Some popular customization options include:

Embroidery: Add your logo, artwork, or text to your cap through embroidery for a professional and polished look.

Screen Printing: Perfect for intricate designs and vibrant colors, screen printing allows you to create eye-catching graphics on your cap.

Patch Appliqué: For a tactile and textured look, consider adding a patch appliqué to your cap for added dimension and visual interest.

Finalizing Your Purchase:

Once you've considered all the above factors, it's time to finalize your purchase. Make sure to:

Double-check your size and fit to ensure a comfortable and flattering look.

Review the customization options and confirm that they meet your expectations.

Place your order with a reputable custom cap provider who offers quality products and excellent customer service.

By following this complete guide, you'll be well-equipped to choose the perfect custom cap in Merrylands that suits your style, personality, and needs. So go ahead, express yourself with a custom cap that's uniquely you!

#custom caps Merrylands #Men custom caps merrylands #customized caps near me #Custom caps merrylands nsw #Custom caps merrylands online #customized caps with name #tee's Crew #Custom printing Spot

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Second to last huge art dump, random non-class work drawings that were also not fanart/art for my own future comic. They're not all the greatest things I've done but I did them w/o guidance/prompting from some kind of teacher. I'm doing better lately and getting out of a self imposed rut, so I think these are special to me because they were the results of me pushing myself to do the things I like again, and to not stress about the results

I'm the worst about documentation for my own stuff haha, I'm sure there's more somewhere but it's off in the void for now. I've done a lot of practice with watercolor, and I've slowly but surely been getting more comfortable with it.

These last three were drawn with the prompting of some of my friends. First was when I asked if I could draw my friends D&D character, and I'm still really proud of that one :D second is when a friend asked me to draw what I look like at work. Pizzas are thrown in the air frequently but that's about the only fun part about it haha

Last one gave me a headache to even conceptualize. Prompt was as follows: Wojtek, the Polish soldier bear who ate cigarettes, getting fitteded for a kilt printed with a bunch of pictures of me, on the phone ordering a pizza topped with cigarettes, from the pizza shop that I am working at; and me, making aforementioned pizza.

I love my friends lol

#my art #not fanart

[gallegospham9]

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[lauesen64korsholm]

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[liu82stephens]

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